Wrecked
by TaylorJade
Summary: She was a spitfire, and he revelled in the burn. "I'll fucking ruin you, you little witch," he yelled, absolutely enraged. Hermione only laughed at him, because she knew he could. She wasn't certain that he hadn't already. Thormione/AU/Rated M for language and sexual content in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Thorfinn Rowle never thought it would come to this. He was a young man, with many things he planned to do in life. That's the thing though, living in times of war threw quite the wrench in any plan you ever made. War created a beast in every human, and the only thing the beast wanted was to live. It would do anything, destroy any person, demolish any village, if only it could live. Thorfinn Rowle's beast found its way into the safe arms of the little lioness, Hermione Granger, and his life was wrecked.

" _Rowle, you have one chance to drop that damned wand, or I will drop you!" Hermione Granger had grown into a warrior woman since Hogwarts. Where she once gave second chances, she now inflicted twice the pain. Her stance was confident and her voice told no lies; he knew she meant what she said. He had seen the injuries she had inflicted on his fellow Death Eaters._

" _Okay, okay Princess. It's down. What are you planning to do with me now? Kill me anyway?" Rowle had nothing to lose at this point. There was nothing he could do to defend himself, as she had just bound him with an incarcerous. She knocked his legs out from under him, and he fell back easily onto the cobblestone of the dark alley. "Oh, is that all you wanted? Me on my back, and beneath you? I know you like to be in control Granger, but all you had to do was ask- I'd be more than willing to see what a bad girl you can be."_

 _She silenced him, not wanting to hear anymore of the lewd comments she was sure that would ensue. "Rowle, you're coming back to headquarters with me, and if you continue to be so disgusting, I'll show you just how naughty I am, though I am certain you won't enjoy it one bit." Although he was silenced, his open mouth and sparkling eyes told that he was having quite the laugh, and secretly she was too._

Rowle and Granger had quite the history. He was a fifth year at Hogwarts while she was a first. Her bookwormish and nagging ways drove him up the wall. Their very first encounter, she had the nerve to use magic against him, and embarrassed the shit out of him. He was impressed by her, but he'd never tell her. Instead he continued to bully her, if only to interact with her. As the next three years passed, they grew accustomed to bantering and battles of wit. Granger knew by the time he graduated she fancied him as much as she hated him. Rowle knew one day, he'd come back for her.

 _Hermione Granger had endured months of teasing; she'd had her hair turned into a literal bird's nest, her teeth elongated to resemble a beaver's, and any time she tried to answer a question in her classes, her tongue would become tied. Quite frankly, she'd had enough. On this particular day, she was leaving Professor McGonagall's class late because a student thought it'd be humorous to hide her things while she was at her professor's desk asking a question._

 _Thorfinn Rowle was a fifth year, and apparently had nothing better to do, than harass her. Because of the incessant whining from Draco Malfoy, he knew who the small witch was right away; Draco often mocked her and prissed around answering questions in a nasally high pitched tone. She sounded as obnoxious as he imagined a spoiled princess would be. He saw her walking down the corridor, and thought it'd be brilliant to hide from her and expel all the things from her bag causing her inkwells to break, and her parchment to tear, and her books to fly down the hall. Hermione collapsed with her head hanging lowly in her hands._

 _Thorfinn stepped out from behind a knight in armor, "What's wrong Princess? Can't use all those smarts to put your things where they belong?" When looking at him, the first thing she noticed was his uncanny similarity to a Viking. He was tall, at least six feet and not yet fully grown, and his shoulders were broad. His face was more handsome than it had any right to be with a strong nose and perfectly plump lips. His blue eyes were gleaming with mischievousness, and his golden hair hung loosely around his shoulders._

 _Before she could stop herself, she aimed her wand at his head, "Nodore," she cried. His once free-flowing hair was now in knots on top of his head. He pulled and tore at his hair, trying to free it from it's magical binds, growing increasingly frustrated._

" _What's wrong, you massive Viking? Can't use all that magic of yours to untangle it?" His eyes shot to her chocolate ones full of mirth, and widened at her nerve to mock him. Before he had a chance to make a grab at her, she summoned all her things, and bolted, leaving him alone in the hall._

" _Bloody hell," he almost couldn't be angry at the little witch. Almost. True enough, he respected her for her cleverness, but she had to be put in her place. He made it his mission to terrorize her for the next three years. He didn't expect her to return the terror tenfold._

After much deliberation within the Order, Thorfinn Rowle was told he could live if he vowed to work alongside the Order. The only reason he was not killed on the spot was due to the fact that behind his bravado, he was not the Death Eater scum he pretended to be. Self-preservation was his motivation. Being a Death eater guaranteed his safety in the war. It was not an easy feat getting into his mind, but Granger, ever the know-it-all swot, prodded her way in. She was the only person who fully trusted him, as she was the only one to see his memories and his raw emotions. He didn't mind that a bit. He always found Gryffindors to be pretentious bastards anyway.

 _After leading the Death Eaters to believe he was dead or at least a lost cause, he had no one. He had ignored the calling of the Dark Lord for months; each beckon pulling on his scar growing more and more painful. He began to become delusional, "Princess, just kill me, please. Chop it off, I can't stand this anymore. I won't go to him, I promise." He writhed, tore at his Mark, bit through his lip, pulled his hair, and begged for death. The Order had no way of relieving his pain, and some didn't want to. Some believed he deserved the punishment for the havoc he wreaked on others' lives._

After days of Voldemort summoning him, he ceased. No more pain, and no more loyalty to his previous lord. The Prophet claimed Thorfinn Rowle of only twenty-five years was dead. He was supposedly killed in a raid by the Order. No other Death Eater had ever ignored a summon from their Master, so they could only conclude he had ceased to be. To remain 'dead', he would have to remain unseen. He was made to stay within the doors of the Headquarters, and do as he was told. His days included spending much time with Granger; she was typically the only one that would be at the Headquarters most days because she was the only person willing to put her nose to the books and research. In his time with the lioness, he grew to love the way she smiled at his inappropriate behavior, but he loved even more how hard she tried to hide it. He appreciated her wit and total disrespect for men who tried undermine her. She was a spitfire, and he revelled in the burn.

 _His duties included those you'd expect of a woman. He hated every moment of it, grumbling and groaning to anyone who'd listen. "When I lost my Mark, did I also lose my dick? Whose idea was this?" Hermione could only laugh at his antics, not only because it was humorous, but because she knew he was miserable. "I mean come on Princess, surely you can find something more useful for me to do, if you'd like, I can show you how well I am with my wand." Everyone in the room was well aware of the double meaning in his words, and only Granger laughed at it._

" _Oi! You prick, keep running your mouth, and I'll cut your tongue out." Ron Weasley was still hurt over the fact his Hermione had turned him away after so many years of being friends and fighting alongside each other. He couldn't believe she no longer wanted him. It took him five years to realize what a catch she was, and he was five years too late._

" _Ronnikins, you can't do that, how do you expect me to please her without it? I suppose I could make up for it though, I am quite good with my-" Rowle was shoved against the cupboard by a very angry Ronald Weasley, and he was absolutely murderous._

" _Ronald Weasley, you remove yourself from him immediately. Don't you have work to do?" Granger decided it was a good time to step in, not because she feared for Ron, but because she knew Rowle could snap him in half if he felt the need to do so. With one last shove, the ginger left the kitchen. Hermione was sitting on the counter top reading a tomb that appeared to be as old as magic itself._

 _Thorfinn made his way to her and stroked her cheek to gain her attention, "Princess, you know I can handle myself."_

" _Yes, you massive Viking, I'm aware. I was simply looking out for the kitchen and all the dishes." She placed her hands on either side of his chiseled face, "And Rowle?" She bit her lip and gazed into his eyes._

" _Yes my little lioness?" Rowle placed his hands on her hips, pulling her closer to his much larger frame._

 _Granger's lips were so close to his own, they brushed against them as she said, "The toast is burning." Before he had time to react, she was bounding down the hall towards the library._

" _I'll fucking ruin you, you little witch," he yelled, absolutely enraged. Hermione only cackled at him, for she knew he could. She was not too certain that he hadn't already._

A/N: Sooooo… How was it? This is my first time writing a Harry Potter fanfic, and my first time publishing in… God. Ages. I hope everyone enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. I plan on this to be no more than 5 chapters at the most.

As you know, the sexy beast that is Thorfinn Rowle was based on the creation of Canimal's, and his nickname of Princess came from her. The nickname of Viking for him came from Kittenshift17 and if you've not read their work- DO SO IMMEDIATELY! Also, I don't own the characters, I just like playing with them.

Thanks for reading! Drop a review to let me know how I'm doing!


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N**_ : **YOU GUYS MAKE ME SO HAPPY.** **Thank you so much for reading and reviewing and following my story. I love you guys so damn much. You're the best.**

 **I loved writing this chapter- you get to see Harry! That's always fun. There's a bit of a darker tone here though, not so fluffy. No lemons this chapter- but oh boy. The next one- I got you covered. ;)**

 **Let me know how you like this chapter!**

As the months drew on, the Order began to trust Thorfinn. The younger members of the Order had attended school with him, and had never known him to be outright awful to anyone but Hermione. They also knew she gave as much as she got when it came to the Viking, so it was rather easy to forgive him. Instead of continuing to drive the wizard insane by giving him mundane tasks to do, they asked more of him. They needed someone to make potions to heal the members that were injured in raids, and they needed someone to research counter curses. Hermione was originally the holder of that job title, but much to her dismay, she was asked to relinquish it to Thorfinn.

Thorfinn spent his days at the safehouse stirring potions and preparing ingredients. In school, he favored potions. The routine of chopping, slicing, draining, stirring, and simmering was calming to him. In the labs, he was dominating and never worked well with a partner. He didn't want to talk or delegate tasks. It was frustrating for him to have people among the Order come in and supervise and question his actions. He was a capable wizard, but he found it difficult to work under the scrutiny of people who knew next to nothing about healing potions.

 _Hermione ran her hands through Thorfinn's long golden hair. He was so tense, and looked to be on the verge of pulling it out. For something that made him as handsome as he was, that was simply unacceptable. Contrary to her 'prudish' attitude, she often times found herself fantasizing about pulling on it as he put his mouth to better use. To keep herself from getting too warm under the collar she reassured him, "I know you hate it, but you're doing a great job."_

" _Oi, is that a compliment I hear? From Research Royalty herself?" He was grinning from ear to ear, and thanks to her skilled hands, he was finally able to loosen up a little. Spending days on end at a table, in chairs that were more suited for firewood, had taken a toll on his body. Every time he stood, his joints cracked and ached. Not even a hot shower could relieve the stiffness; he desperately needed a deep tissue massage, so he pulled the little witch's hands to his shoulders._

 _Hermione tried her hardest to sound convincingly condescending, "Rowle, I forgot to add that you're doing well for a wizard with such a poorly developed brain. I'm actually surprised you can even read words that are longer than four letters." She dug her fingers into his shoulders and had to fight the urge to moan aloud when he groaned. Hermione worked her way up to his neck from his strong shoulders, and noted the chill bumps erupting across his skin._

" _Little lioness, be thankful I am here to assist you; without me you have absolutely no one that has a fair amount of brain capacity to work with. I'm shocked the Weasel can even cast a shield by the way he behaves, and Longbottom, Merlin, he's a hair away from being a squib." Rowle knew his words would spark a fire in Granger, and that is what he lived for. He continued to enjoy the massage he was receiving until he felt a sudden loss of pressure on his neck, and received a very sharp 'whack!' against the back of his head. Call him a masochist, but he lived for those moments._

It had been eight months since he was seized by his witch, and Thorfinn Rowle had not seen beyond the walls surrounding the land the safe house was situated on. He was thankful for the seclusion at times because he knew if he were ever found by his previous acquaintances, he'd be dead only after being interrogated and tortured. Life outside the peace and safety of the Order Headquarters was darker than ever, and much more dangerous. Thorfinn could smell the death and carnage on the robes of the witches and wizards lucky enough to return after missions.

" _Harry? Oh Merlin, what's wrong?" Hermione rushed to meet a singed and bloody Harry Potter who'd just arrived after the latest mission. The plan was to rescue hostages from Diagon Alley, most of them being young adults. It was supposed to be simple- very few Death Eaters were on shift at this particular time of day._

 _Harry spoke after a moment, "It was a trap. There were no hostages. Ron," he hesitated. The world stopped turning, and time slowed to a crawl. "Ron is hurt. Ron is bad, Mione. Everyone else has minor injuries, but he was hit hard by something from Dolohov." Harry's eyes were darting around the room, looking from face to face as if he were keeping a count. "Everyone, I know it's hard. We've been fighting for months, years in fact for some of us. We've been hit hard, but we can't stop."_

 _Hermione grasped Thorfinn's hand and sunk into his side. He held her up, easily, but he had no idea what to say to her to hold her up emotionally. He knew by the looks of the wound, he was hit by Dolohov's signature curse, and he would not make it. His own magic would burn through his veins like acid as a result of Dolohov's clinging to it- forcing it to end its own human's life._

 _Ron hadn't been much of a wizard to Rowle, but to Hermione he'd been a best friend; he'd been a constant in her life from the first year she'd known she was a witch. For ten years Ronald Weasley had been by her side, even if it meant he was also a thorn in her side._

 _Harry continued, "Their numbers are growing, but Voldemort is growing weaker. His horcruxes have been destroyed. He's all that is left. If we can take him, we can take his followers." The members filling the room began to agree, and the energy filled the room. They weren't sure how, but they could do it. They would all fight for Ronald Weasley because, after all, he was their king._

The weeks following the death of Ronald Weasley were by far, the hardest of Hermione's life. He was too young like so many others lost in the war that seemed never ending. She wouldn't admit it herself, but she became reckless. She went on every mission and fought ruthlessly. Her magic crackled throughout her hair and flew out of her wand as if it were an extension of her body. It was beautiful, but terrifying. Harry began to worry about her, as did the rest of the Order. Sure, they were thankful for the dedication and vigilance, but she was endangering herself as well.

 _Harry made his way to the makeshift potions labs to speak to Thorfinn. He didn't know what to do for Hermione, but there had to be something- some way- to control the raging wildfire that was consuming her. The only person he knew to go to for help was the man he knew she was falling in love with, and whether she knew it or not, he didn't know. He sure as hell wasn't going to ask either. Harry stood at the door for a moment, not quite sure how to address the mountain of a man bent over his workbench._

" _Potter, do you plan on speaking or are you just here to admire my arse?" Rowle never ceased his work, so how he knew it was the messy-haired man, Harry would never know. He continued bottling potions, obviously waiting for the man to respond._

 _Harry stepped into the room and closed the door. He didn't want anyone overhearing the conversation. "Rowle, as handsome as you think you are, I'm not here for you. I think we both know why I'm here." He leaned up against the brick wall of the basement, fidgeting with his hands. "Look," he started, so unsure of his words he almost seemed to choke on them, "I- I know that you care for Hermione."_

 _Rowle stopped his work, and dropped his ladle, turning to look at the nervous wizard. Not sure what to say to that, he shrugged his shoulders waiting for Harry to continue._

 _Harry cleared his voice, and speaking with more certainty he said, "I know that she means a great deal to you, and I know that you'd protect her if it came down to it- if she needed it. And Rowle, she needs it."_

 _Thorfinn ran his hands through his hair, pulling at his scalp before crossing his arms. He was tense and didn't really know what to say. He had no clue what to do for the witch that he'd grown to love._

" _Potty, look. I'm not her father. She's a big girl, and capable of protecting herself. You forget she was the one who managed to capture me." Rowle shook his head and laughed a bit at the memory, "I mean, you've seen what she can do. Everyone has, and she doesn't want to be saved by anyone. She's her own hero." With no intentions of the conversation going on any longer, he returned to his work._

 _Harry stepped up to the bench and slammed his fists against it, knocking vials over in the process. "Damn it, Rowle! You look at me and you bloody well better listen. That is my best friend, and she is the only family I have left. I'm not asking you to chain her down and keep her here. I'm not asking you to change who she is or- or confess your undying love and bloody marry her," Harry's voice was building into a mighty crescendo, "I'm asking you- no I fucking demand that you do something." Harry's eyes were wild and his knuckles were white. "I don't know what to do, but I know you can give her something to stay for. She's fighting for the sake of it! She doesn't give a shit who she leaves, but I need her!"_

 _In the moment of silence that followed his outburst, Rowle respected Harry Potter more than he ever had. While at Hogwarts, the Great Harry Potter was the Chosen One, but Rowle had never understood it. He seemed too cowardly- weak even. Now he knew why he was so loved, why he was praised by so many. Harry was inherently good even among the terrible of the world. A kind of good that he'd never be, a kind of good his Hermione was._

 _Thorfinn turned his back to the wizard. "I'll try my best, Potter, but you've lost your mind if you think it's for you," he said as he looked over his shoulder at Harry. The older wizard had a fire in his eyes Harry had never seen, and he hoped it was enough._

 _Harry stepped towards the door, pausing to say, "If this is the only good thing you'll ever do in your life, Rowle, I'll owe you mine."_


	3. Chapter 3

Thorfinn Rowle never had much to fight for. He fought for Voldemort, but that wasn't his choice- that was to maintain his safety. He had his life, but his life, in the grand scheme of things, wasn't much. It was the only thing that was his, though. He'd lost his family to Voldemort and his followers, his family's home had been destroyed, and all his belongings were looted.

Then along came a fiery spirited, wild haired Hermione Granger. The day he graduated, he told the girl he'd be back for her. He promised one day she'd be his whether she wanted it or not.

 _Everyone was seated in the gardens outside Hogwarts, and the day was beautiful. It was warm, the sun was shining, the flowers were all in full bloom. There was such an excited energy flowing through the air, but it didn't seem to reach Hermione Granger._

 _Her best friend was graduating. Of course she was happy for Thorfinn, she just wasn't sure how she would manage without his daily annoyances. If she were honest with herself, it was more than his bothersome ways she'd miss. The two were an unlikely pair for sure, but they couldn't find another person they'd rather spend their time harassing._

 _The ceremony came to an end; Granger found herself wandering about the grounds away from the crowds. "Stupid girl fancying an older, stupid boy," she muttered to herself, thinking she was alone with her ramblings._

" _So you fancy me, little lion?" Thorfinn crept up behind the witch he was speaking to, seeming to appear out of thin air. He was still in his graduation robes and looked absolutely gorgeous. He was grinning at the young girl, his dimples making an appearance._

 _Hermione was nearly too embarrassed to respond, but quickly got her wits about her. "And what, Thorfinn Rowle, makes you believe I was speaking about you?" She had her hands on her slim waist, and her lips were pursed._

 _Thorfinn sat on a nearby bench and beckoned her to come to him. When she didn't move, he said, "Princess, I don't bite- unless you like that sort of thing," he finished with a wink._

 _With a roll of her chocolate eyes, she made her way to the tall boy. Even sitting he was taller than her standing. "What do you want, you huge man?"_

" _I want you." He pulled her to his chest. "Don't get me wrong, I hate you- and your dreadful mane," he tugged on her curly locks to emphasize his point. "I hate your incessant nagging- and oh gods, your attitude. You're such a know it all, witty little brat. Your lips are are constantly bright red and swollen from your chewing- at that rate you'll never get your first kiss." Hermione playfully swatted at the broad man. He caught her arms and continued to speak._

" _Your eyes as well- they make you so transparent. I hate those the most." Rowle's hands were running along the bare skin of the witch's arms. Her dress was a deep blue, fitted at the waist and flaring at the hips showing off her quickly developing body, and the older wizard found himself enjoying the sight of it a bit too much._

 _The brunette grinned at his words, "Yeah, Rowle. I hate you too. In fact, I hate you more." Their relationship was always this. This banter. This hate. This love. It was them. It's what set them aside from classmates their own ages._

" _Granger, I'll come back for you." He held her hands, and looked into her blazing eyes, and said, "You're already mine." As much as he hated it, he was not his witch's first boyfriend, and he wasn't sure he wanted to be her second. She was still too young. He wasn't her first kiss either, but he was damn sure he'd be her second. He wanted her to know how much better it could be. How much better they could be._

 _Hermione's eyebrows shot up, and she was livid. "Why you brutish, rude, mysogynistic pig!" The little witch pulled away from him and took a step back. Her hands returned to their position at her hips._

 _The young teenager sucked in a deep breath and started what Thorfinn knew would be a rant to end all rants, "I don't belong to anyone! That's the problem with men these days- they think they can lay claim to bloody anything! You're off your broomstick if you believe-"_

 _Before Hermione could finish her sentence, Thorfinn was standing with his body pressed against hers, his hands on either side of her face, and his lips swallowing her rage. The brunette leaned into him, and her hands flew to his chest and pulled at his shirt; she'd never been kissed like that and bloody hell it was amazing. Her lips parted- unsure of the next step, she timidly traced his bottom lip with her tongue._

 _Rowle felt as if he'd died and was in some alternate universe where everything good in the world was because there was no way in hell this could be happening to him. As soon as he thought that, it was over._

 _Hermione Granger shoved his body away from her own. Losing the near constant presence of the older boy was something she was having a difficult time accepting._

 _She wasn't sure how to address it without breaking down into tears, so she simply stated, "And that is the problem with men these days. They leave and do as they damn well please without any cares for whom they're hurting." She shook her head and turned to walk back to the castle leaving Rowle questioning what had happened. Hopefully she'd find them in the common room, and hopefully they'd make her forget what had just occurred._

" _See you soon, Princess," Rowle called to her retreating figure. He stood alone in the gardens mulling over what just happened, and just how he was going to manage without his witch in his daily life._

Many days were spent attempting to approach Hermione. Rowle planned and pondered on how best to display his concern without making it seem as if he were trying to control her. He tried to say it subtly; he tried to say it in a way that would make her feel like it were her idea to calm down; he tried to be tender but logical. No way he tried was successful. After weeks of attempting, and failing, to convey his worry for her- he decided he had to be blunt. He refused to treat anymore of her wounds without speaking his mind.

 _Hermione winced and ground her teeth as she swallowed the Skelegro. She had broken her ankle and a few ribs while away on her last mission._

" _Princess, you've got to be more cautious." Thorfinn took the empty glass from her bruised and bloody hands. "I don't know how many more times your body will mend itself. You've been too careless."_

 _The stubborn witch responded, "My body is fine. I'm cautious- constant vigilance. I'm safe. I'm the best soldier we have besides Harry himself." She turned sideways on the infirmary bed that was pushed to the wall, her legs dangling over the edge making her look only slightly younger than her twenty one years._

" _Look, I think you need to take a break from all these missions-" Thorfinn started._

" _No I'm fine, honestly, I have to go. I can't sit here and do nothing Thorfinn, they need me." Her words started running together, and her voice sounded more and more shrill with every word. "I have to fight, I have to win this. I don't have a choice, this is my war to fight, I- I have to. They need me."_

 _Thorfinn threw the empty glass at the brick wall and spun around to eye the fragile girl sitting on the exam table._

" _No Granger, they don't need you. They can do this on their own. You know who needs you?" He grabbed her shoulders and looked into her eyes, "I need you, Granger! I fucking need you! Those people you're fighting for- what do they have to lose if you fall in battle?" The wizard became manic in his speaking._

" _If the life leaves your beautiful and strong and broken body," his voice wavering, "What do they lose?" He held her face in his hands as if she were as fragile as she seemed. "Nothing, love. They lose an idol. I lose everything."_

 _Tears fell from her wide, dark eyes. He wiped them away, and kissed her cheeks where they once were._

" _Please, Princess, stop fighting for them and for the Weasel and for all the other witches and wizards who've died." He kissed her lips, "Fight for me, Princess- fight for us."_

 _Hermione clung to the large wizard and kissed him like her life depended on it. The kiss was bruising- teeth clashed, lips bitten, hair pulled. Hermione's hands pulled at Thorfinn's shirt until he got the point and tugged the material over his head. Her gaze fell to his contoured chest and abdomen; she traced the lines of his body with her fingertips._

 _Thorfinn noticed the witch's line of sight, and smirked while asking, "Like what you see, little lion?"_

 _The battered witch simply nodded and began kissing along his torso. Thorfinn groaned and pulled her face to his, kissing her swollen lips once more. His strong hands pulled her hips forward to the edge of the table, he ground his hard member into her soft body. Her back arched and her chest pressed against his naked one._

" _These have to go right fucking now," he said tearing at her shirt and bra. Once it was removed he fell to his knees and began to suckle and lick and nip at her breasts. He sucked her nipples into pebbles and scraped his teeth against them. Hermione's head fell back and her hands pulled at his long, golden hair._

 _Soon his hands were at the waist of her pants, and he looked at her questioningly. All it took was for her to nod, and he was at work unbuttoning and unzipping and pulling. Hermione was naked apart from the cotton knickers she had on, but she'd never felt so hot in her life._

 _A thick finger ran along her wet, hot slit over her soaked knickers and she almost came at the feeling of it. It had been well over a year since she'd been touched in that way, and it was well overdue._

" _Thorfinn, please don't tease me," she hated to beg, but holy hell she needed release._

" _Tell me what you want, Princess," Thorfinn's lips were making a trail up the inside of her thighs. Hermione's breathing sped up. "Fuck, your skin is so soft." He bit the sensitive skin, and she nearly came undone._

" _I want you to taste me, please I need it, please don't make me beg," Hermione pleaded with the man despite her best efforts not to._

 _He wasted no time speaking- in a fluid motion, he pulled if her wet knickers, and his tongue went directly to the hardened bundle of nerves. His longest finger was making itself acquainted with the hot, wet channel of her sex. After she was positively dripping, he ate her like a man starved. His tongue was inside her and his fingers stroked her clit. Hermione's orgasm came fast and hard, her walls clamping down, and her thighs tensing around his shoulders._

" _Fucking hell, Princess, I need to be inside you." He stood and kissed along her neck, tracing the skin up to her ear, "Please let me feel you."_

 _Hermione's hands were quick at work with his jeans and underwear. After removing them, she ran her fingers along the length of his hard member, and circled the tip of it teasingly._

 _She whispered in his ear, "Thorfinn, you're going to feel so good inside me."_

 _That was his undoing. He couldn't wait any longer. He pushed her hands aside and lined up the tip of his weeping member with her sex, and slowly made his way in. He moaned into her ear as he was fully sheathed by her walls. The sound made her clamp down, becoming somehow even tighter._

 _Hermione's hands went to his hips and pushed, motioning for him to move, "This isn't my first rodeo, you massive man. Fuck me."_

 _Fuck her, he did. His hands went to the bend of her knees and he began to thrust into her with all the strength he had. Every cry from her making him push into her a little faster._

 _Her eyes were closed and her head was thrown back. Thorfinn grabbed her chin and demanded, "Look at me, my little lion. I want you to look at me when you cum on my dick. I want you to know who makes you feel this good."_

 _With the hand he'd been holding her leg with, he started rubbing her clit. A few strokes was all it took for her to fall apart. The pulsing of her sex drove him to his own orgasm, and he spilled his seed into her body._

 _After whispering a contraceptive charm, she whispered, "I still hate you, you know?"_

 _Thorfinn laughed breathlessly before responding, "Yeah, love, I know. I hate you more."_

 **A/N:** **So, whatcha think? My first lemon, so I hope you approve. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Please drop a review to let me know how you feel!**

 **Thank you so much to all of those that have followed, favorited, and reviewed. You guys are the best.**

 **I love you bunches! Til next time! Xoxo -tj**


End file.
